


end credits

by borky



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, i'm enjoying myself way too much??, in which I dive into the world of AU because no universe can separate my children
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2018-10-31 19:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10905900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borky/pseuds/borky
Summary: Andrew Meanyard is a killer for hire and Neil Josten is more lucky than he's smart... which... drives Andrew up a wall. Main dish being the Monster and the Rabbit with a side dish of violence and frustration:"Is it done?""I missed," he growled, taking in a drag and blowing it into the direction of the apartment as if that would somehow help his situation. "He's got more luck than he's got brains,""What happened?""He ducked,"...my sanity's on a vacation with this fic...





	1. cigarette ash like wildfire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murder of the Rabbit, part 1

Waiting was the boring part.

Andrew found himself sitting in a run-down vehicle, holding the cup of hot chocolate in his right hand, his other settled on the wheel. It was cold outside and Andrew hated having to be huddled in a big coat not to freeze his ears off. The AC on this old car was in no way sufficient but at least the wind didn't try to blow him away and the radio played his playlist because the shit that aired these days wasn't anything he'd be capable of listening to for hours while being on a lookout. He took a sip, relaxing under the way it burned his tongue but he would be damned if he let it go cold. From what he expected, he had about ten more minutes until his mark exited the building. He read Wesninski's file several times, up and down, tried to understand his mentality in order to take him out efficiently. He'd heard that those before him failed; Nathaniel was obviously a difficult victim. It seemed that the only constant in his life was the exy obsession that he kept in check as well. The amount of self control this man possessed was truly impressive, something Andrew often wondered if he could do if he tried hard. For someone who had The Butcher's temper, Nathaniel was too composed but nothing indicated that he was self-medicating to tame his brain. He seemed always awake, aware of his surroundings, paranoid by nature (and for a good reason). He'd met Nathan before, saw his ways and his temper, felt is as well. The fingers on his throat were relentless and had it not been for his partner-in-crime at the time, Andrew wouldn't even be sitting here right now. That was the last time he disrespected the Butcher. To his face...

Speak of the Devil and his son appears.

Andrew put the cup down to the half broken holder by his side and tugged the seatbelt over his chest. He watched which way the mark would go before he followed, keeping a respectable distance. He knew where Nathaniel was going but the man was as unpredictable as he was unreal. All he needed to know was if Nathaniel turned right on the corner he needed him to before he'd drive over to the future hideout he guessed belonged to the man to set up his rifle and get in position. He didn't walk fast, therefore he wasn't in a rush so there was no reason for change of hearts about his plan but the last time Andrew assumed he knew exactly what Wesninski was going to do, he ended up losing a trace of him for five weeks. He couldn't afford to waste such time as it was getting annoying... especially when someone outsmarted him. 

The mark turned right on the corner and the murderer decided to take a chance, believe his instincts and trail towards the hideout. When he got to the shitty part of the city in the middle of fucking nowhere (Indiana), he climbed to the roof of the opposite building, set down his rifle and double checked for any potential technical problems. If he was right and wasted this chance he was going to take it out in the gym and cringe every time he moved tomorrow. The slow burn of adrenaline seeping through his veins made him come off the edge of the building so he could focus on perfecting his aim towards the window that, allegedly, was supposed to belong to the soon-to-be-dead man. He checked his watch, made the count and deducted that he had around T minus eleven minutes. 

A pack of M&M's was open as he settled on the roof, laying on his stomach and prompted on his elbows. He'd long since gotten over taking people's lives for money as murder was only a tool that rid the world of the assholes in it. Of course, he had rules of conduct as well and not once did he turn the barrel of a gun towards his employer. Like the one time he got paid to murder a woman who cheated on her husband. She was a beautiful creature and even though Andrew wasn't interested, he could appreciate beauty when he saw it. Anna was her name; she was a mother to five children, recently turned forty years old, size 10. She kept good care of herself, and of the children from what Andrew had witnessed when he watched her to regulate what schedule would be best for murder. It was the first time he saw a woman balance her drive for work and her family as equally as possible. She was a tough worker, climbing the ladder even after birthing children but she never missed Brett's game or Lily's recital. Not once did he see her raise a hand on her children. Not once did he see her smoke in front of her children. Not once did he see her drunk nor tipsy in front of her children. She was taking close to perfect care of them; Andrew wasn't easily impressed. She was intelligent and kind but she had a target on her forehead. The only way to get rid of it was to get rid of the one who painted it on her. It was the same man who didn't care whether he started an argument during family dinner, who tried to humiliate the mother in front of their children. The bounty hunter had changed his mind already, wondered what would happen to his reputation in the criminal business if he killed the man who hired him but the second he witnessed his current employer shoving his youngest son into a wall in sheer anger the deal was sealed.

The hunter became the hunted.

The employer's death was quick, Andrew didn't particularly enjoy torture as he didn't hold patience for it, but he made sure to let him know the reasons of why the hound he sent on his family turned back to bite the hand that fed it. His body was found in the river by the police tied to a briefcase with the money he wanted to pay the bounty hunter with.

From what he heard, Anna moved her lover in with her and didn't hold sadness to her dead ex-husband.

_crunch crunch, yeah, he had it coming. asshole._

The noise of the gates opening below him caught Andrew's attention from his memory haze and he grunted as he shifted towards the sniper rifle, getting ready. He pushed his shoulders down, took in deep breaths and focused his eye on the room. When it lit up, Nathaniel Wesninski stepped inside, followed by another man. A squint settled on Andrew's face but he waved it off and tested the wind, his finger sliding beside the trigger. He wanted to check the situation first before firing; best would be if the man who came with him left within a few minutes.

What followed surely wasn't something he expected.

Nathaniel Wesninski pulled his shirt off, catching the sniper by surprise. His finger stayed off the trigger as his eyes slid over the well formed back with numeral scars and burns from cigarettes and an outline of what seemed to be a trident.

Nathan? Hm.

He watched the mark's muscles moved as he held out his hands towards his company while Andrew curiously glanced at those too, wondering if they had matching scars.  
They didn't. His shoulders weren't too broad, his body was toned much more than his clothing gave away but he supposed that was the point of baggy clothes. They hid what was beneath.  _what a shame_ , Andrew thought to himself, as he was the one to spend weeks watching the other. Not once did he see him shirtless before though...

When the man he didn't know placed his hands on the sides of Nathaniel's torso, he was sure as hell he wasn't going to watch his mark hook up with some stranger. His hand quickly undid the safety of the gun and settled over the trigger. Andrew's focus turned completely towards the task at hand, aiming the chevron at the back of his head.

_not yet. not yet. don't move. not yet. now._

The trigger was pulled but Andrew froze behind the scope as his mark vanished from his sight. He had to tilt the scope a little lower to see Nathaniel Wesninski, alive, ducking on the floor with his fingers no longer fumbling with his shoelaces.

"The fuck..." he grumbled and looked at the casualty kill he caused. The blood was starting to flow from the man's neck just as he started to fall backwards.

Nathaniel Wesninski avoided death by untying his shoelaces.

When he checked the mark's spot again, he was gone, hiding away from the window. Andrew cursed once again but he loaded the rifle again, watching the room while the blood poured from his accidental victim's throat. He noticed the tattoo needle on the table that was behind him, view blocked by the previously alive tattoo artist, apparently.

Nathaniel moved from his hiding way too fast for a sniper to get him, taking his infamous duffel bag with him. "You fucking Rabbit got a lucky paw now?" he asked no one in particular as he swallowed his pride and started packing his weapon back in its case. Wesninski was a fast runner, no way Andrew was going to catch him now. He stood by the edge and lit a cigarette. Halfway through burning it, he turned on his phone and dialed a number.

 _"Is it done?"_  
"I missed," he growled, taking in a drag and blowing it into the direction of the apartment as if that would somehow help his situation. "He's got more luck than he's got brains,"  
_"What happened?"_  
"He ducked,"  
_"He what? You're telling me he ducked the same time you pulled the trigger?"_  
"Make a note to track tattoos with the Rabbit. He wants one. Not soon. But later."  
_"Can he be a rabbit if he's a duck?"_  
"Can you breathe with my foot in your mouth?"  
_"Eh... depends, your feet are pretty small,"_  
"They'll fit up your ass,"  
_"Oh, Andrew, you know all my kinks. Come back to the bar. I'll serve you my special,"_  
"On my way,"

Andrew hung up, finished his cigarette and grabbed his bag before making his way downstairs towards his car.

This wasn't the end, Nathaniel. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what's a beta??? who knows
> 
> I saw a post on tumblr and got inspired to write this shitpiece. More from Andrew's and Neil's past to be revealed in following chapters. POV's will change so we get a bit of both mentalities. title & chapter names borrowed from EDEN's End Credits. The song screams Andreil at me and was a big part of the writing process. check it out if you can.
> 
> comments & kudos always make my day. thank you for taking the time to read!


	2. burning holes in the night time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> murder of the Rabbit, part 2

"He's been dead for weeks now," Roland noted, glancing up from his computer only to find Andrew giving him a look as if  _he_ was the one who lost sight of the Rabbit through a sniper rifle.

"He'll show. He'll give into exy because he's a junkie and he'd rather see his throat slit than let anyone pry a racquet out of his skinny fingers,"

The bartender / hacker snorted, sliding a glass across the bar towards the blonde with a constant frown on his face. "He pisses you off a lot for someone who hasn't even been face to face with you so far," Nathaniel Wesninski was a slippery man. He had years and years of practice on his account about running away from the best of the best.

"You're coming close behind him," Andrew warned as he downed the glass and moved to his feet, shoving his wallet into his pocket and grabbing the keys from the counter. Roland let him go with a smirk under his nose that turned into a chuckle once the short man was gone. It was a tough case to crack; he didn't know how many times they were going to be able to pinpoint Nathaniel's location if the sniper kept missing his mark or letting him run off instead of watching him.  _These legs weren't made for quick, long steps, Rollo,_ Andrew said, back in the day when Wesninski escaped his spying eye.  _Isn't he like, a few inches taller than you?_ he babbled back and had to duck not to get hit by the bottle Minyard was previously drinking from. Good old times.

Andrew slipped into the black mustang, noticing how much better it was than all the crappy, casual cars he had to use during missions, backed out of the parking lot and stepped on the pedal. He had a meeting with Kevin in twenty minutes; Kevin Day got very irritated when you were late and he wasn't above giving life lessons in that shitty mood, while Andrew wasn't above punching him to shut his mouth for at least ten minutes until he'd catch his breath. He knew Wesninski personally too as they grew up playing the same damn sport along with Riko Moriyama who was now jumping however Tetsuji whistled. Harmless, mostly, unless someone dug their teeth into the business. Even though Nathaniel had sass for days, he couldn't possibly be stupid enough to out himself to the deadly mob. He wouldn't die a quick death like Andrew intended for him.

Arriving to the location two minutes early, even though he crossed three red lights, Andrew slipped out of his car and made it towards the coffee shop and ordered a disgustingly sweet frappe, partially because he really felt like freezing his brain and risk diabetes, partially because Kevin would diss his drinking choices while gulping down a cup of hot, bitter, black coffee. Heads turned when the man in question walked in, dramatically pulling off his shades and serving polite smiles. Kevin was still an exy star, proud of his success and even Andrew had to admit that it was righteous. After surviving the nest with Riko and recovering from his broken hand, learning how to score even better with his right hand and making it as far as being marked as the most prosperous and talented, hardworking player in the exy universe, he certainly had determination Andrew sometimes admired. He could see it put to better use, sure, but this was Kevin's world and Andrew was not a part of it for a few years now. Day was also running Andrew's financial district on the side; he wasn't just pretty but smart too. What a catch!

Of course people started snapping pictures and posting them online but Minyard wasn't worried. Roland was a computer genius, used to run with the Russians before slipping into the Anonymous world. Later on, he ended up meeting and hooking up with Andrew, then joining his murderous business and making sure they had everything they needed -- privacy included. All pictures of his face were going to be blurred out, just like other random pictures taken of Kevin Day to mask the pattern. People were just shitty photographers...

"Haven't seen you in a while. Did you change your mind about my offer?" Kevin asked as he took the lid of his cup off to let it cool a little and not burn his tongue in front of the blonde gremlin ever again.

"Remind me why didn't I kill you back in Palmetto,"

"Because you weren't getting paid for it,"

"Fair point," Andrew agreed and slurped on his drink for a while before he licked his lips to get rid of the excess caramel. "Did the transaction for Renee go through?"

Kevin nodded in return, pretending to look out of the window at something interesting so he didn't have to glare at the cup in front of his company. "Yes. She received full price, sent a note you'll have it back by next month. Did she take another gig from you?"

"I owed her a favor. She made a pick," he shrugged as if they were talking about some goods from the magazines and not bounties for people's heads. 

Andrew met Renee when she was still with the Bloodhounds and they'd stuck to each other since. Finding one another at PSU was not an unpleasant surprise at best, now she was working in Betsy's business with damaged young adults. After repairing Andrew's sanity and Matt's belief in people, as well as Allison's issues, she decided to give it a shot. She'd been when they were, faced a shitload of stuff herself and knew best what approach to take thanks to her kindness that she'd been building for so long it didn't seem unnatural anymore. It was just... Renee.

"We should do a reunion sometime," Kevin remarked with a shrug, hoping to slip it past Andrew as he seemed in thought but the  _the fuck, Day_ look spoke volumes about his 'dumb' idea. "It's not like you have to attend,"

"Everyone's had enough of your face popping at them from the media after the antagonizing years as the Foxes," his tone sounded irritated but Kevin was basically a pro at speaking _Andrew_ so he knew he was being playful.

"Better my face than yours," It was a weak comeback but at least it was something. Andrew's kick into his shin under the table made him glare, reaching down to rub the bone through his jeans when the blonde kicked him again. "Like a five year old," 

He wouldn't change their friendship for anything.

* * *

 

"I got eyes on him. I'm accessing the rest of the streetview cams. We've got him, Andrew," Roland beamed into the phone as he sent the directions into Andrew's GPS. One of his spies identified Nathaniel on the streets of Orlando, a known place for once. They had many false reports but it took a few taps of Roland's quick fingers to get into the security cameras and find an angel on the face that was allegedly identified as his. This time, they hit jackpot.

"I'm eight hours from there. Keep me updated about his location,"

"You got it," he confirmed and hung up, leaving Andrew to his playlist and a long drive at a fast pace.

 

Arriving at Orlando, he decided to get an apartment close enough to Wesninski's but not too close to seem suspicious. He mapped his days, searching for routines, for anything constant, for a pattern in his decisions. Even if Nathaniel decided to wing it, his subconscious had to use some sort of methodical sequence it wasn't aware of and Andrew would rather chew on a wooden door than to let this puzzle slip his interest. It took him eight days and an embarrassing amount of coffee but he figured out the way Nathaniel's brain worked in Orlando. He waited a few more days to confirm before calling Roland and stating his requirements. He had two days to prepare his heist so his brain started listing chemicals he could combine to create tasteless, see through poison within a day and a half. It needed to be a small, efficient dose with a delayed effect so he could preferably drag him off to some alley himself and put him in his trunk. He settled on a name and headed outside for the day to get all ingredients he needed. The whole night he spent at someone's basement lab, poisoning rats and counting the perfect dosage for his long missed Nathaniel.

Roland made a fake ID for Andrew so he could pass as a member of the coffee staff where Wesninski was supposed to stop by that day. He took the bus in the morning and read the coffee shop recipes he printed out last night. The drive took approximately thirty minutes and by then, he had it memorized inside out. The amount of junk that went into the coffees was ridiculous even for Andrew, one of the reasons why he never wanted to know the ingredients to all of his favorite ice creams; sometimes, it was better to stay in the unknown. Nathaniel could teach lessons about that. He tossed the stack of papers to the bin on his way inside by the back, tucking the earbud in while he slipped into the costume they made everyone wear around there.  _Uniform my ass_.

To finish the look, he pulled on the cap with a big, blue smiley face on it and paused in front of the mirror. He better be right about his assumptions or he was going to get wasted that night while talking to Roland on the phone. Knowing him, he'd add the rest of the monsters on call, just like old times. Why was everyone feeling nostalgic? It hadn't been that long since they parted ways and they still kept in touch. Not with the foxes though. Andrew knew what was going on in their lives thanks to Renee and Kevin but he didn't particularly care if they got ran over by a bus or a train. The shop was opening in ten so he fixed his cap, slipped to the front to put the chairs down on the floor and off the tables he'd later on quickly clean before sliding behind the counter along with some other staff members who were careless enough not to ask him who he was and what he wanted, dressed like one of them.

Relying on other people's stupidity and carelessness was always a good trait. 

He spent most of the morning making decaf coffees for all sorts of strangers, keeping one by the side. It was a frappe with extra caramel that he sipped from time to time while waiting for his mark to show up. He'd later get rid of it outside, in a trash can further from the store to avoid any possible complications. Andrew could hear Nicky in the back of his head, a playfully malicious soft voice nagging at his thoughts with his constant reminders of how much he kept thinking about his marks. Nathaniel was the longest bounty so far so it made sense for Andrew to wonder how to figure him out as if he was a mathematical equation. Had his grades been judged by this, he'd fail with a big fat F. The only time someone got away from Minyard's line of shot was when he was attacked in his hiding spot and stabbed to the side two times. The two pink scars were a constant reminder to be better at checking his surroundings as well as be aware of what was going on around him. He hadn't been attacked since.

The annoying door bell rang as the door opened again and Andrew found himself five seconds from ripping it off the ceiling and pushing it down the manager's throat. For a store that had customers entering approximately three times per ten minuets, it could get annoying -- this was his _first_ day. He'd rather work at a bar with Roland again than spend another day here for the indecent pay and even shittier customers who complained that  _it's Erika with a 'k', not 'c', dumbass!_  ... He had patience for years but his blood boiled at anyone whose name wasn't Adam or Sharon. Either way, Andrew slipped to the counter, noticing the same, washed out, white shirt Nathaniel Wesninski wore.

For a guy who wanted to have a different identity whenever he moved, his clothing line was pretty shitty.

A smile almost formed at his lips because he was  **right** but he didn't want to yell 'jump' too soon, or... smile... at all. "Hi, what can I offer you today?"

Wesninski pretended to think for a moment -- Andrew's eyes rolled into the back of his head, glad that the cap was blocking his face from the other's view. He'd never been this close to the legendary persona and he didn't want his face to be remembered (definitely not with him sporting a cap with a  _ **blue smiley face**_. For fuck's sake...).

"I'll have the Cinnamon special, grande," 

Nerd.

"Coming right up. Name?"  _what identity will you throw at me now, Nathaniel?_

"Alex," 

 _boring._ "Got it," Andrew moved from the front counter to the one in the back, getting the cup and basic ingredients ready before he came to the front and asked for money. He'd never seen the other use a credit or debet card; today was no different. Nathaniel, Alex for now, paid in cash, careful not to touch him by any accident. The money was basically dropped into Andrew's hand, so he suffocated the urge to roll his eyes again as he wasn't sure if the manager in the corner of his view wouldn't call him back after trying to gesture to him that he needed to make eye contact and smile. Wesninski moved to the side so Andrew to the back again to slip the poison into the mark's drink, letting someone else take over the front. He had what he came for, now all he needed was to see the son of the Butcher drop dead on the pavement outside. Andrew doubted he'd stay in the shop but the man was as unpredictable as he was unreal at times.

Slipping it in was easy; Roland taught him so back in the day when he was still bartending with him for some money during school. Tainting a drink with drugs wasn't as difficult as some people may thought. Blink and you'd miss it.

Finishing the drink with whipped cream, caramel and cinnamon, Andrew called out for Alex and slid the drink towards him. He listened to his footsteps, counting the distance between him and the exit. The door closed behind Nathaniel just as a muffled groan came from the same direction. The blonde's eyes snapped towards the entry to the shop, eyeing the situation.

Wesninski was standing by the door, arms extended by his sides while an angry, old, gray-haired business man seemed displeased, flicking his hand to get rid of the remains of his spilled coffee that was now making a mess on the ground between them. Lip-reading was what came next, hearing the conversation as if he was standing right there next to them.

_Are you fucking serious?_  
**I'm sorry. I didn't see you.**  
My suit is fucked!  
**I apologize. Here, take my coffee, I'm really sorry for your** **_suit._**

Andrew's eyes widened as he helplessly watched Nathaniel Wesninski handing his poisoned coffee to an angry business man, who accepted it, tossed him some more spiteful looks and walked past him, going on with his day.  _You're fucking kidding me, Rabbit._

The man in question didn't hear his thoughts and walked off, coffee-less, with his shoulders slumped. Before the manager could get his hands on Andrew, he moved to the lockers and tossed the cap into his designated locker with a growl. "I'm going to rip off his lucky paw and beat him to death with it,"

Roland's laughter echoed in his ear.  **I can see the headlines.**

"What were the chances that  _idiot_ was going to give his coffee to someone else?"

**Well, considering the population of Orlan-**

"I'm going to beat you with his paw next if you don't shut up this minute," Andrew warned him as he took his shirt off and tugged his long sleeved turtleneck back on. Next came his pants.

Roland waited patiently until the hunter was ready to talk again, which was only after a cigarette he lit outside. He put a phone to his ear not to look like a freak who talked to himself, asking for directions of Nathaniel's current position.

**We're gonna need a new plan.**

"No shit, Sherlock. Add Renee to the conversation,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Andrew's struggle is real, Rolland's pissing his pants bc he ships it and Nathaniel is an unaware angel. Same old, same old.
> 
> Comments & kudos all appreciated!!! Thank you for reading <3


	3. open scars cut like barbed wire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> groupchat mischief

_**GROUPCHAT:**_   _the cool squad_

**Renee:** this is one of the funniest stories I've heard in a long time  
 **Roland:** it's hilarious  
 **Nicky:** I AM OFICIAL L Y DECEASED  
 **Kevin:** this is a failure  
 **Nicky:** HE DODGED ANDREW  
 **Kevin:** nicky no  
 **Nicky:** BY BENDING OVER  
 **Nicky:** sounds like a gay dream I called IT!!!!!  
 **Nicky:** AND THE SECOND TIME  
 **Kevin:** I'm leaving  
 **Nicky:** HE JUST  
 **Nicky:** GAVE  
 **Nicky:** POISONED  
 **Nicky:** COFFEE  
 **Nicky:** TO  
 **Nicky:** SOMEONE  
 **Roland:** XD  
 **Nicky:** ELSE  
 **Nicky:** rip me pls give me a nice funeral ask Erik about the details

**KevinQDay** _left the group_

**NickyHemmickKlose** _added_ **KevinQDay** _to the group_

**Kevin:** wtf hemmick  
 **Nicky:** don't pretend you're not amused  
 **Kevin:** we failed. twice. how is that funny?  
 **Nicky:** I'm going to feed you humor sense if it's the last thing I do, Day  
 **Kevin:** good luck trying  
 **Nicky:** I SHALL PASS  
 **Nicky:** anyway, what's the new info? Where's the rabbit?  
 **Aaron:** not dead, that's for sure  
 **Renee:** :O  
 **Nicky:** AARON CAME IN WITH A JOKE SOMEONE SCREENSHOT THIS  
 **Roland:** XD  
 **Roland:** done  
 **Kevin:** I've made a huge mistake  
 **Nicky:** don't be a party pooper queen kween  
 **Nicky:** WAIT  
 **Nicky:** !~!!!!!@!@#!!!!  
 **Nicky:** DID YOU JUST  
 **Nicky:** DID HE JUST  
 **Nicky:** DID HE JUST QUOTE ARRESTED DEVELOPMENT  
 **Aaron:** we've been binge watching it the whole week  
 **Kevin:** aaron's tv is too loud and he threw the remote batteries at me the last time I tried turning it off  
 **Nicky:** I MISS NOT LIVING WITH YOU ANYMORE T_T  
 **Aaron:** I don't  
 **Kevin:** me neither  
 **Nicky:** :OOOOO  
 **Renee:** I've witnessed a text assassination  
 **Roland:** I'll text Erik about those funeral details  
 **Aaron:** :)  
 **Roland:** omfg you guys  
 **Nicky:** you are ALL ungrateful children I'm never baking pie for you again  
 **Aaron:** deal  
 **Nicky:** you're the rudest minyard I've ever known  
 **Andrew:** I found the rabbit. Meeting at base in 1 30  
 **Renee:** got it  
 **Roland:** waiting  
 **Kevin:** ok  
 **Nicky:** is no one going to talk about how I summoned Andrew with one text???  
 **Nicky:** ?????????? NO???  
 **Nicky:** ok then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live and I hereby promise that next chapter will be longer. For now, have a little snippet of 'behind the scenes' :)
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated <3


End file.
